


[Boy]friends Trust Each Other

by 50_points_for_ravenclaw



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Miscommunication, Porn With Plot, Top Derek Hale, and some good ole father/son bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50_points_for_ravenclaw/pseuds/50_points_for_ravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles groaned with exasperation, clutching at his short hair. “He’s…older. And we sort of…I don’t know,” he breathed, dropping his hands back into his lap. “I just…something happened and we haven’t talked since it happened and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t feel the same way. Honestly I’m not even sure how I feel about the whole thing.”</p>
<p>He let out a long, slow breath, staring at the wall in front of him while John stayed quiet next to him. After a moment, his father reached over and laid his hand reassuringly on Stiles’ shoulder and the younger man looked over.</p>
<p>“Sounds like you just need to talk to this guy,” he said gently.</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>I honestly don't know where this came from. I was just trying out writing smut for the first time and then this happened...oops</p>
            </blockquote>





	[Boy]friends Trust Each Other

Stiles slid the door closed behind him as he moved farther into Derek’s loft.

“Derek?” he called out with no answer.

With a small huff of annoyance at the inconvenience he walked into the next room, dropping his book bag onto the floor in the corner. He had come straight from school and hadn’t even thought to take his book bag off his shoulder the entire drive over. He was too angry.

“Derek!” he yelled again, his voice louder, deeper and far more irritated.

There was still no response so Stiles started moving toward the spiral staircase that lead upstairs. Just as he was reaching for the railing, he was shoved against the wall, his back pressed uncomfortably against the hard stone.

“What are you doing?” Derek grumbled at Stiles, holding an arm across his chest to keep him pinned.

“What are you hiding something up there?” Stiles asked teasingly, but it was obvious he was still mad by his tone of voice.

Derek scowled down at the boy that stood just a couple inches shorter than him. “What. Do. You. Want?” he asked slowly.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I want to know what the hell you were thinking last night.”

Derek narrowed his eyes, scoffing at the statement.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Actually it is when you start antagonizing a family of hunters and my best friend just so happens to be a werewolf!” Stiles exclaimed, returning the older man’s glare.

Derek took his arm away but didn’t step back as he stared intensely at Stiles. “Scott can take care of himself. He’s an Alpha now,” Derek reasoned. “Besides, he dated the daughter of a hunter before and managed to survive.”

Stiles glared at the mention of Allison before shoving himself closer to the man, their chests touching as he stared into his face with furrowed brows. “Scott may trust you now and think you’re friends but don’t think for a second that I feel the same way. If you’re going to act stupid, then make sure that Scott or anyone else doesn’t get involved.”

“You think I would intentionally hurt Scott?” Derek growled, his rising with anger as he stalked Stiles back into the wall. “I’ve spent the past two years trying to protect him, to teach him. If he gets hurt, it’s his own fault.”

“Protect him? You’ve been protecting him? From _your_ crazy uncle? And _your_ crazy girlfriends? And _your_ crazy lizard beta?” Stiles spit and even as he was saying it, he knew it was wrong of him to bring things long passed back up but he couldn’t help it. He had been too high strung for the past week, trying to make sure the new family of hunters in town didn’t find out about Scott or Malia or Isaac or any of them. “The only reason he really needs protection is because of your mistakes! Your screw ups! He wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for the Hales!”

Derek clenched his jaw, taking a step back as he crossed his arms, glaring heatedly at the younger boy in front of him. Stiles, always way too stubborn for his own good, refused to back down from the glaring contest, even as the guilt started to creep in. He already knew Derek had issues with blaming himself far too often for things that were out of his control and saying the things he did was just too low a blow. Even so, he continued to return the werewolves glare.

“I went to the hunters last night to tell them that I was the only werewolf left in town and that there is no more Hale pack,” Derek bit out eventually and the guilt increased tenfold. “You and Scott showed up and interrupted a peaceful meeting. They were going to let it go, let me go, so long as I kept to the code. But now they know I was lying and now they know about Scott.”

Stiles stood in silence and he knew Derek could tell that he was slowly being consumed with guilt and frustration, could probably feel it rolling off him in waves. His teeth grinded together as he averted his gaze to the floor.

“They could have believed I was the Alpha. They would have,” Derek said a bit quieter, but his voice still laced with anger. Stiles wasn’t sure what to do now. He had just attacked Derek without all the information and the things he said, he knew he wouldn’t be able to take back. He had no idea how to even begin apologizing. “I’m sorry if what I did was such a danger to Scott,” Derek added sarcastically and Stiles winced a little.

“Sorry,” Stiles mumbled after an incredibly extended and incredible awkward silence. He’d started shifting where he stood because Derek was still standing a bit close to him and the anger and betrayal he knew Derek must be feeling behind his stupid scowling mask was just making his mood even worse.

Derek just narrowed his eyes momentarily before shaking his head and stepping away. “It’s fine,” he said curtly as he walked away from Stiles.

Stiles took a deep breath now that he had more space to actually breathe and let his shoulders slump before his face screwed up as Derek’s words registered. With a new determination, he followed Derek across the wide space of his loft to the next room which just so happened to be the man’s bedroom.

“It’s fine?” he asked incredulously, ignoring the fact that Derek didn’t seem interested in talking anymore as he was relaxing back on his bed with a book.

“Yes,” Derek said, looking up at him with a blank expression. “It’s fine.”

For some reason this just pissed Stiles off more and he stomped over to the bedside and snatched Derek’s book out of his hand to drop it onto the bedside table. Derek immediately stood up, getting into his space again (and wow it’s been a while since this has been such a regular occurrence but Stiles couldn’t find it within himself to protest) and glared angrily.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say after what I said to you?” Stiles poked. He didn’t know why he was so interested in keeping this fight going. He just knew he felt guilty and Derek should have been more upset.

“What do you _want_ me to stay, Stiles?” Derek asked, as if he was humoring him but he looked dangerously close to growling.

“I don’t know! Say that I’m an idiot teenager who doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Stiles exclaimed. “Say that I need to stop getting in the way and screwing things up. Say that you want to rip my throat out with your teeth because I had no right to say that.”

Derek stared at him with his eyebrows raised, in surprise and confusion. He didn’t respond as Stiles panted a little from his exclamations and Stiles only got more annoyed.

“Why do you care?” Derek asked before he could say something though.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Because, believe it or not, you’re a bit of a permanent fixture in my life now and that means we’re sort of friends.”

“Friends trust each other,” Derek stated simply, his expression falling back to its default blank look. He started to sit back down, grabbing the book again but Stiles took it from him before he could fully get a grip and threw it across the room in a moment of stupidity. He didn’t know why he did it and he regretted it as soon as Derek snarled quietly and yanked him onto the bed to pin him on his back and glare menacingly into his face.

“I have no idea why I did that,” Stiles breathed, his heart racing at the position. It was no secret, at least between he and Scott, that he was attracted to Derek and being pinned to the bed with Derek hovering over him like this was going to create a whole new situation.

Derek only continued to glare, his hands gripping Stiles’ wrists above his head a bit tighter, not enough to really hurt. Stiles gulped, willing his budding erection to please for the love of god go away. This was the worst possible time ever to pop a boner, especially as he _should_ be more scared for his life than turned on. Was it wrong that being scared for his life might actually be what was turning him on?

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed a bit, in what looked like confusion and Stiles sent out a silent prayer that he wasn’t emitting super strength pheromones even though he knew he totally was. He could only hope that Derek would let him go with his life and hopefully a little dignity.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked with exasperation and it was then that Stiles realized he had clenched his eyes shut.

“I…uh,” he stumbled over his words, “please don’t kill me?”

Derek looked at him incredulously, loosening his hold on his wrists before shifting, his legs brushing the outsides of Stiles thighs. Stiles almost bit his lip but he held back, trying his hardest to keep his expression neutral.

“I’m not going to kill you, Stiles,” Derek sighed. He leaned forward, seemingly inspecting Stiles’ expression and Stiles sucked in a breath, unable to prevent the audible sound it made, and his eyes widened at the proximity. Derek didn’t seem too terribly upset with the position and he hadn’t mentioned the undoubtedly strong scent of arousal that must have been coming off Stiles yet. Stiles tried to convince himself that maybe Derek wanted this too, maybe Derek wouldn’t be so opposed to kissing him, to touching him, slowly dragging his hands up his sides, breath ghosting along the skin at his neck…

Before Stiles new what he was doing, he rushed forward and crashed his lips against Derek’s in a hard kiss. As soon as their lips touched, Stiles froze, his eyes wide open and trying to focus on Derek’s blurry, too close image as his heart kicked up a notch. What the hell was he doing? Derek hadn’t moved yet but his hands had gone back to gripping Stiles’ wrists tightly, tighter than before, bruising.

And then Derek was pushing Stiles into the bed with his lips, sliding them against Stiles’ own mouth in a wet kiss and the teen could do nothing but sigh into it. His mind was reeling at this extremely strange and erotic turn of events but he accepted it with no prompting. Straining against Derek’s hold on him he leaned into the kiss, opening his mouth in order to brush his tongue along Derek’s bottom lip until the man opened his mouth to the intrusion.

The kisses became harsher, more demanding and Stiles was feeling so light headed and confused but he was so so hard that he couldn’t think straight. This was everything he had been dreaming of for months now and he still couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

Derek lowered his body so that it hovered just over Stiles, the heat of his groin lingering near Stiles’ hard on almost unbearable. He tried to buck up but Derek’s knees had his thighs pinned to the bed. He was completely at the werewolf’s mercy.

Derek’s lips left his to slide along his jaw and further down to his neck where he sucked at the vein. Stiles groaned at the feeling, his breath short and loud in the almost complete silence of the bedroom. “What are we doing?” he gasped breathlessly before he could stop himself and Derek stopped moving, his lips just barely touching Stiles’ skin. He almost wanted to cry.

Leaning back, Derek looked down at him with a curious expression, flexing his hands against Stiles’ wrists which were starting to ache a bit along with his shoulders from the position.

“What do you want to do?” Derek asked simply and Stiles nearly choked. That had not been what he was expecting but he could definitely work with it.

“Anything,” he breathed quickly. “Everything.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at his words, letting his ass fall to rest barely against his legs. Stiles sucked in a breath as the heat increased around his still covered cock and he almost whined with need. What? He was a healthy teenage boy and he had been fantasizing about this gorgeous hunk of a werewolf for far too long.

“You shouldn’t sound so desperate,” Derek said in a voice so disinterested, Stiles could only look at him in astonishment.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice almost back to normal as irritation flared up again.

Derek just shrugged at him and Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, clenching his teeth. Only Derek could simultaneously piss him off and turn him on. With a grunt he bucked his hips, more as an indication that Derek should get off of him, but the man only responded by smirking a little at Stiles failed attempts to move at all.

“If you’re just going to make fun of me, then get off,” Stiles bit out angrily, pulling at Derek’s hold on his wrists.

Derek swooped down to run his nose along the shell of Stiles’ ear and the boy tried to hold back a shiver at the sensation. “You don’t want that,” he whispered and then Stiles did shiver.

“Is this payback or something?” Stiles said, his voice quieter and just a bit too vulnerable for his liking.

“Well you are the one who wanted me to be mad at you,” Derek reasoned, pulling back enough to look him in the eyes with his eyebrows raised. Stiles looked about to protest but Derek pressed a deep kiss to his lips before he could speak, leaving him breathless once he pulled away. “But no. This isn’t payback.”

The gentler tone to Derek’s voice caught Stiles off guard but before he could say anything, Derek’s lips were back on his in a rough push and pull and he could do nothing bur return the kiss. Derek switched both of his wrists to one hand before letting the other one travel down along his arm, his neck, his chest—until he reached the edge of his shirt and pushed it up to rest his warm palm against his naked side. Stiles gasped a bit into the kiss at the skin on skin contact, wanting desperately to be able to return the favor but he knew now that he wasn’t going anywhere unless Derek wanted him to. He couldn’t tell if he was more annoyed or turned on by that fact.

Derek moved to his neck again, though this time he didn’t linger, only trailing wet kisses down the line of his throat until he reached the collar of his shirt before suddenly he was shoving Stiles shirt up to his armpits and nosing at his chest. Stiles almost moaned at the action but he held back, biting his lip to keep the sound in. He refused to sound desperate now.

“Is this okay?” Derek mumbled against his skin even as he was already kissing his chest and traveling down toward his stomach.

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed, unable to hold back a small groan as Derek grew closer to the waistband of his jeans.

Derek finally let go of Stiles’ wrists and he pulled at the younger man’s shirt pointedly glancing up at him and Stiles was quick to yank the shirt over his head and throw it to the floor while Derek continued to nuzzle and kiss and lick his chest and stomach. He couldn’t even be annoyed with the way Derek was obviously teasing him because as Derek leaned lower, his dick brushed Stiles’ leg and it was so noticeably hard that Stiles couldn’t help but be distracted by his pride for a moment. _He_ did that. Sort of…

“If we’re going to be taking this any farther, we should get a move on some time soon,” Stiles said, his voice a bit strained. Maybe he didn’t have as much restraint as he thought.

Derek glared up at him though and moved away, sitting back against Stiles’ legs with an unimpressed expression, signature eyebrow raised and his arms crossed. Stiles rolled his eyes, resting his hands on Derek’s hips naturally.

“Come on. What did you expect from me?” Stiles asked. “I’m a male teenage virgin with a serious case of hot werewolf ass sitting in my lap. I’m more than ready to get to the next step.”

Stiles didn’t know it was possible but Derek’s expression actually grew more unimpressed and oh god why did he think that was adorable? You were not supposed to think your friend who you were possibly about to fuck is adorable. Sexy? Yes. Sexy was safe. Sexy made sense. Adorable was dangerous and risky and so not where Stiles needed to go.

In order to get his mind off that train of thought he reached forward to undo Derek’s belt. Derek let him, not moving at all as he pulled it through his belt loops with a snap and threw it to the floor, his fingers moving to unbutton and unzip his jeans. Stiles couldn’t stop himself from brushing his fingers along the seam that pressed against Derek’s straining dick and the older man gritted his teeth at the touch. Stiles considered it a win.

With no preamble, he reached inside Derek’s pants, cupping him through his boxers and Derek’s breath hitched, his arms uncrossing to clutch at Stiles’ thighs. “Jesus, Stiles,” he bit out, his voice like gravel.

“Well it’s not like you were doing anything,” Stiles retorted, gently rubbing the cock in his hand as Derek’s breath grew short.

Derek glared at the accusation before quickly ripping his shirt over his head. Stiles didn’t get much of a chance to admire the muscles in front of him though before Derek was scooting back out of reach and leaning over his crotch, fingers deftly undoing his zipper and roughly yanking his jeans down to mid-thigh. Stiles gasped but didn’t have much of a chance to process as Derek was already shoving his shoes and socks off and then his pants the rest of the way after that before returning to nose at the tent in his boxers.

Without his consent, Stiles’ hands flew up to nestle in Derek’s hair as he muttered a quiet “shit” under his breath. Derek didn’t seem to mind though as he let Stiles’ fingers clutch at his scalp, continuing to blow hot air over the tenting material in front of him, letting his fingers drag distractedly along the younger man’s long legs.

“Derek seriously,” Stiles breathed. “Please, you’re killing me here.”

“Has anyone ever done anything like this for you before?” Derek murmured, licking and sucking at the skin just above the waistband of Stiles’ boxers.

“What part of ‘virgin’ don’t you understand?” Stiles gasped.

Derek hummed thoughtfully, peering up at the young man as he mouthed at his hard on through the material. “No one?”

“Yes, Derek,” Stiles answered in frustration. “No one has touched me like this. You are the absolute first person to even get near there. Please just do something.”

Derek almost laughed at how exasperated Stiles seemed to be getting but instead he slowly slid the boy’s underwear down over his thighs, hiding his smile with a kiss against his hip bone. Stiles blew out a large gust of air in relief as his cock bobbed up and Derek removed the boxers completely. He was already completely hard, a small dot of precome visible at the tip and Derek stared for a moment, a little in awe at how beautiful Stiles really was.

His body was lean, lightly muscled with pale skin dotted in dark moles and he had a dark trail of hair that started thinly at his chest and grew thicker as it traveled down his abdomen into the dark curls nestled at the base of his cock. There was a sheen of sweat across Stiles’ flushed and panting chest already and his hair was mussed on his head from rubbing it into the bed. He looked down at Derek, his cheeks slowly turning red at the attention the older man was paying him before he reached down pulling Derek up by his face and kissing him soundly.

“You’re wearing too much clothes,” he mumbled against Derek’s lips, toeing pointedly at his jeans. Derek easily slipped his jeans off, as they were still unbuttoned, before settling back against Stiles.

“Better?” he quipped, kissing Stiles jaw and running his teeth along his skin.

“It would be better if you were naked,” Stiles huffed, dipping his fingers into the back of Derek’s waistband and lightly groping at the top of his ass.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Then why don’t you help,” he murmured, licking along Stiles pulse and running his hands up his sides delicately. Stiles let out a shaky breath at the feeling before letting his fingers slip under Derek’s underwear more and push them over the globe of his ass. From there he managed to nudge them all the way down with his feet until Derek could kick them away from around his ankles.

Stiles moaned at the first touch of naked skin once Derek pressed into him again, letting his head fall back and his eyes close tight as Derek languidly dragged his dick against his. He had never felt anything like this before and he had never really imagined his first time being with a guy, either. That didn’t scare him though because he had had way too many fantasies about Derek up in his room to ever think he was 100% heterosexual. He was actually glad to have Derek be the first person because he already felt comfortable around the man. Also the fact that Derek kept purposely irritating him helped take his mind off how anxious and nervous he should be.

“What do you want, Stiles?” Derek asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Talk to me.”

Stiles let out a shaky breath, not sure how to respond. He wasn’t exactly one for dirty talk but he didn’t really know how to get his point across either. Instead of using words, he lunged forward to kiss Derek desperately on his swollen lips, flipping them over at the same time. He knew he wouldn’t actually be able to do that unless Derek let him and he was silently grateful the man understood he was trying to show him what he wanted rather than say it out loud.

“Just…bear with me,” Stiles breathed, pulling away to settle himself in Derek’s lap. He was a little unsure of what he wanted to do honestly, but he found himself kissing down Derek’s chest, admiring the muscles in his shoulders and abs with his hands before letting his fingers drag down farther. He wrapped them hesitantly around Derek’s member, stroking loosely and Derek huffed under his breath, rolling his hips up into the touch. The reaction soothed Stiles nerves and he tightened his grip, stroking a little faster as he nipped his way down over Derek’s abs and along his hips.

“Shouldn’t this be the other way around?” Derek asked, his voice deep and husky as he watched Stiles lean back to appraisingly stare at the dick in his hand.

“I told you,” Stiles answered, peering up, “bear with me.”

Then he gave a wink and Derek would have laughed at the action and how ridiculous Stiles was but the boy was leaning forward to lick across the head of his cock and he let out a moan instead. This seemed to encourage Stiles, as he licked down the length of the shaft in his palm, sucking a little at the base, before moving back up to suck at the tip for a moment and then pull away, stroking him slowly. Derek was trying his hardest not to take back control, to buck up into Stiles incredibly unfair lips or roll them over and stroke himself until he came over the teen’s stomach.

“Stiles…” he groaned as Stiles repeated the action, spending more time to suck more of Derek into his mouth, letting his tongue explore the slit that was beginning to pearl with precome.

Stiles pulled off with a dirty ‘pop’ and looked up at Derek with a grin, still stroking him at a slow pace, not quite enough to actually do anything for Derek but enough to keep him on edge.

“Yes, Derek?” he asked, cheekily.

Derek narrowed his eyes in a glare, even as he panted and pushed himself up to sit against the headboard behind the bed. Stiles watched him confused, his hand losing his grip but didn’t move when Derek leaned over to the bedside table (an actual bedside table…when did he get all this furniture?) and rummaged around in the drawer for a moment. His confusion was quickly placated when Derek returned with a bottle of lube in hand.

“How far were you planning on taking this?” Derek asked with an eyebrow raised.

Stiles breathed out slowly. “Well I didn’t really plan it out,” he said back jokingly.

Derek only continued to stare at him seriously. Stiles rolled his eyes, crawling up to sit in his lap, straddling his waist, and snatched the lube from him. “I’m not a princess, Derek. I think the fact that I’ve mentioned I’m a virgin multiple times now makes it pretty clear where I want this to go.”

“Are you sure?” Derek asked.

“Ugh stop!” Stiles complained. He popped open the top on the lube and squeezed some out onto his fingers while he stared at Derek with an annoyed air. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t be sitting naked in your lap. Now are we going to do this or not?”

Derek looked at him, unimpressed by his sarcasm and gestured for him to get started. Stiles rolled his eyes again, grumbling under his breath about having “to do everything myself” while he reached down beneath himself, massaging his lubed up finger over his hole.

This wasn’t the first time he had experimented down there and a few times before, he had actually managed to make the experience pretty pleasurable. But he was sort of hoping Derek would be the one to stretch him open this time, reach farther than he knew he could. He resigned himself to doing it on his own though as he started to push one finger in, thrusting softly, deeper and deeper until he had it as far as he could get it. It didn’t really feel like anything yet but he caught a glimpse of Derek’s heated stare and had no problem with staying aroused.

After that, Stiles pushed the second finger in, letting himself adjust to the stretch of it as he thrust his fingers slowly. It still didn’t feel like much because he hadn’t quite found _that spot_ yet but the feeling of being filled was nice on its own. Stiles closed his eyes, letting his head fall back lazily as he scissored his fingers, stretching his hole a bit more, his breath coming out quicker and harsher.

He was too absorbed in his task to hear the sound of the bottle opening again or feel Derek shift just slightly under him. It wasn’t until he felt slick fingers running smoothly along his rim that he noticed the change and his head snapped up to see Derek staring down at where he was thrusting himself onto his fingers.

Derek pulled his fingers out gently and Stiles whined, actually _whined_ , at the interruption. It was just starting to get good.

“What are you—” Stile started but stuttered into a moan when Derek thrust one of his own lubed up fingers into his tight hole.

Derek’s fingers were bigger than Stiles’ so when he pressed in two, it was a bigger stretch then before but Derek was also able to angle his hand better, reach deeper and he was hitting Stiles’ prostate on the second thrust. Stiles moaned loudly, his arms going to wrap around Derek’s neck.

“Oh—oh god, Derek,” he said. “Shit. There—that was—do that again.”

He let his face fall into the crook between Derek’s neck and shoulder as Derek plunged his fingers into him over and over, hitting his prostate with every other thrust. He moaned wantonly, uncaring anymore about not sounding desperate, and mouthed messily at the skin beneath his lips. Derek couldn’t stop himself from groaning at the sounds.

“Add another,” Stiles panted into his ear, clutching the hair at the nape of Derek’s neck.

Derek did as told, slowly pushing in a third finger and stroking inside Stiles. Stiles sucked in a breath at the burn of the stretch but it quickly melted into a pleased sigh as Derek brushed his prostate again.

“O—okay,” Stiles stammered. “Okay let’s go. Come on.”

Derek looked up with a confused squint at where Stiles was leaning.

“We ne—ed to get this show on the road or I—I’m gonna come before you even fu—fuck me,” Stiles elaborated, his voice stilted with shuttering breaths as Derek continued to thrust his fingers into him.

Derek raised an eyebrow at the words and on the next thrust, pushed his fingers in harder, deeper and Stiles gasped loudly, his fingers pulling at Derek’s hair and his mouth falling open against his will, even as he glared at Derek.

“Derek,” he accused angrily and Derek smirked, continuing to thrust up into his tight heat, even snaking his other hand to tease lightly at Stiles’ neglected cock which bobbed with his movements.

Stiles groaned, almost as if he was in pain before he reached down and forcefully pulled Derek’s fingers from his ass, hissing at the emptiness. While still glaring at the man beneath him, he opened the lube once more and squirted a generous amount into the palm of his hand before quickly reaching down to stroke Derek’s harder than ever member with a firm hand, his thumb grazing the tip with every upstroke.

Derek’s breath hitched and it was Stiles’ turn to smirk this time as he tightened his grip a bit, dragging his hand slowly on the upstroke before going back down just as slowly. Derek moaned against gritted teeth, his head falling back to crack against the headboard. He didn’t seem to notice though as he was starting to thrust up into Stiles’ hand. That’s when Stiles decided to pull away.

“Ugh…Stiles,” Derek groaned in protest before a hand was gripping him at the base and Stiles was suddenly sinking down onto him. Derek’s hands automatically flew up to grip at the younger man’s hips, holding his breath until Stiles was fully seated. He opened the eyes he hadn’t even noticed he had closed to find Stiles with his head hung in front of him, his breaths short and harsh.

Before Derek could do anything, Stiles was rolling his hips in a circle and then lifting them only to slide back down a second later. Derek’s grip tightened on his hips as Stiles kept a quick steady pace, barely rising before falling back down over and over and over…

“Shit, Derek,” Stiles moaned, finally looking up at the man. “You’re bigger than your fingers.”

Derek went to slow him down, thinking maybe it was painful, but Stiles only increased the pace, letting himself fall a little harder with each thrust and Derek could do nothing but sit back and watch in amazement as Stiles fucked himself onto his dick. It was hard to believe Stiles had never had sex before.

“Oh god, that feels amazing,” Stiles babbled. “Jesus. Derek you’re amazing. This is—”

“Amazing?” Derek intoned with amusement.

Stiles glared, slamming down particularly roughly on his next thrust and Derek clenched his teeth against a loud moan. He wouldn’t give the boy the satisfaction. Stiles seemed to notice he was holding back though because he eagerly quickened the pace, the thrusts deep and hard and Derek found himself gasping for air at the feeling.

Stiles’ lips found their way to his neck and bit down hard, not enough to break the skin but enough to bruise and Derek growled under his breath. He thrusted upward the next time Stiles dropped down, meeting him midway and Stiles choked on his breath, his fingers gripping Derek’s neck hard. He watched disappointedly as the bruise on Derek’s neck faded away almost instantly but didn’t dwell on it too long because the way Derek was thrusting up into him was driving him crazy.

“I’m getting close,” Stiles gasped out after a long stretch of bit off curses and deep rumbling moans.

Derek growled again, flipping them over without pulling out before he slammed in harder than ever and Stiles mewled, his hands flying up to brace himself against the headboard. Derek’s eyes started to glow a bright blue and Stiles laughed a bit at the sight.

“You—your eyes,” he huffed out and Derek frowned, slowing down immediately and his eyes faded back to hazel.

“Wait no no,” Stiles whined, his hands scraping along Derek’s back. “I didn’t mean stop. What are you doing?”

Derek shook his head, almost like a dog and Stiles would make a joke except that he had been getting so close to coming and now suddenly there wasn’t enough pressure and Derek was almost completely still and he might go crazy if Derek didn’t pick it back up.

“Derek, please,” he groaned half in annoyance, half in desperation.

“Just—just give me a minute,” Derek said roughly, his head bowed.

Stiles frowned, reaching up to let his fingers run along Derek’s cheekbone.

“It’s not a big deal,” he soothed, his fingertips gliding over Derek’s closed eyelids.

“I’ve never done that before,” Derek muttered. “I’ve always kept it in check.”

Stiles hummed, cupping Derek’s face and forcing him to look at him. It seemed weird to be trying to prevent an existential crisis while Derek’s dick was still up his ass but there wasn’t really anything he could do about that.

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” Stiles stated matter-of-factly. “Just because your eyes turned a little blue doesn’t mean you’re gonna go all Wolfman on me and bite my head off.”

Derek winced at the image and Stiles let his thumb stroke his cheekbone again, pulling the man down toward him. He pressed an insistent and deep kiss to his lips before pulling away and gazing up at him with as determined an expression as he could muster while suffering such a serious case of blue balls.

“I trust you.”

Derek let out a shaky breath at that, leaning down to nuzzle at Stiles throat, licking the skin there softly and letting his hands float teasingly along his ribs and his hips. “It was kinda hot, anyways,” Stiles breathed after a moment, feeling the heat that had been pooling in his abdomen before come back.

Derek huffed a laugh, giving a slow rolling thrust of his hips and Stiles’ grip on his shoulders tightened with his intake of breath. He started to pick up the pace again and Stiles found himself right back where he was in no time.

“God, you feel so good,” Stiles moaned, reaching up to brace himself again as Derek’s thrusts grew harder. “More, please more…”

Derek did his familiar growl and Stiles smiled a bit at the sound and looked up to see his eyes glowing bright blue once more. “That’s it…let go…” he murmured.

Derek’s thrusts started to grow a bit erratic and Stiles knew he was on the verge himself. In order to try and come at the same time, he reached down and began stroking his bobbing cock, attempting to stay in time with Derek’s thrusts but finding it difficult as he was overwhelmed with heat. Derek slapped his hand away to take over and Stiles moaned louder than any time before.

It didn’t take long for Derek’s sloppy thrusts and uncoordinated strokes to push him over the edge and Stiles came with a shout, spilling over Derek’s hand and onto his own stomach as he gasped for air. Derek pushed deeper and thrust in harder and moaned when Stiles tightened around him. He fell forward to bite at Stiles’ shoulder, his shouts muffled as he thrusted inside a few more times and fell still when he came.

For a moment, the two remained unmoving, breathing heavily against each other, Derek kissing lazily at the bruise he had bit into Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles started to feel a bit uncomfortable after a while though and squirmed until Derek pulled out and fell onto the bed next to him with a huff of air.

Stiles was honestly unsure what happened next. He hadn’t planned on losing his virginity when he came over to yell at Derek after school. He hadn’t even planned on being here this long. Who knew what time it was.

He couldn’t find it in him to regret what happened though. Maybe it hadn’t been intended but it was also one of the best things that had ever happened to him and it happened with Derek. Stiles glanced over at said man nervously to find Derek already staring at him. He didn’t seem embarrassed to be caught though because he shifted closer, rolling onto his side to kiss Stiles’ neck and shoulder softly.

“So uh…that was something,” Stiles murmured, letting his fingers trail lightly up Derek’s leg beside him.

Derek hummed in agreement, grabbing Stiles restless hand in his own and bringing them up to rest against the younger man’s chest.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. You know I—I didn’t mean it,” he said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Derek simply nodded against his shoulder, pressing another lazy kiss to his bare skin. Stiles sighed silently in relief and felt his face relax into a small smile. They sat in silence for neither knew how long until Stiles noticed how the sky outside was beginning to shift into bright streaks of orange and pink with a halo of deep navy blue where the setting sun’s rays couldn’t reach any longer.

“I should—I should probably get home,” Stiles muttered awkwardly and Derek froze in the kisses he had been continually pressing against Stiles’ skin. “I told my dad I wouldn’t be home too late.”

Derek was still for a moment before he nodded against Stiles’ neck and pulled away. Stiles sat up, grimacing at the feeling between his legs before he slid to the end of the bed and grabbed his boxers and jeans off the floor to slip into them. Derek was quiet as he dressed and Stiles turned to him when he was done, unable to keep eye contact.

“We should probably…” Stiles said, gesturing vaguely with his hand and Derek grunted his assent, leaning back against the headboard, his face blank.

Stiles had no idea what the man was thinking at the moment but Derek’s expressionless look was starting to make him feel like maybe the werewolf regretted everything and that thought hurt more than it should. With a jerky nod, he started to leave, but he stopped in the doorway.

“I’ll…talk to you later then?” Stiles asked, wincing even as the words came out.

Derek nodded blankly again and Stiles swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. Finally, he left, getting into his Jeep and pulling away as fast as he could, trying to escape the uneasy feeling building in his stomach at the thought of Derek’s expression.

*****

They didn’t see each other for a couple weeks after the fact. Scott had asked Stiles what happened when he went over but he simply explained Derek’s side and kept the other…part to himself. It wasn’t like Scott didn’t know about Stiles’ weird crush on Derek—it was hard to hide from his best friend, let alone a werewolf—but Stiles still felt weird saying anything. Maybe forgetting about it would be for the best. It wasn’t like Derek had tried to talk to him about it all and he didn’t want to seem needy and annoying and like maybe he was thinking way too far into this whole thing, which he probably was. Maybe Derek just did it because Stiles was there and was willing ( _man_ was he willing) and he didn’t actually feel anything at all.

The hunters hadn’t made an appearance yet and Stiles had a feeling that might have something to do with Chris because when he and Scott told him, his face had gone stormy and determined and wow, Stiles had never imagined that look would be directed at anyone other than the neighborhood werewolves. He wasn’t going to complain though.

The lack of a threat though gave him more time to think which meant more time to sulk which meant more time freaking himself out until he was on the verge of a panic attack. And he had been doing so well for the past few months since the nogitsune.

His dad seemed to notice his son’s change in behavior, too, because he kept sending Stiles worried glances periodically. Stiles felt bad about scaring his father after everything that had happened so he made an extra effort to seem happy and normal. This only seemed to worry the Sheriff more.

So much so that he finally confronted Stiles about it one night while he was working on homework up in his room.

The Sheriff knocked on his door softly before entering and staring at his son spread across his bed as he wrote out problems in a notebook. “Hey, Dad,” Stiles greeted, looking up at the intrusion.

John sighed, muttering a “hey” as he came into the room and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Stiles sat up all the way, giving him a confused look as he set his pencil down.

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know—is there?”

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows into a frown as he stared at his father. “No…?”

“Are you sure?” John said, turning to look at the teenager seriously. “If there is, you know you can tell me right?”

Stiles sighed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to John and laid his hands in lap, his gaze glued to them as he went to speak. “There’s noth—”

“Is it something supernatural?” John interrupted. “You can tell me if it is. I’ll believe just about anything now.”

Stiles snorted at that, flashing an amused grin up at his dad. “There’s nothing supernatural going on.”

“So it’s normal teenage drama then?”

“Dad, there’s no dra—”

“Is it school? Are you fighting with Scott? Is it a girl?”

Stiles choked a little at the last one which didn’t go unnoticed by his father who raised his eyebrows at the revelation. If only he knew the real reason behind Stiles’ reaction.

“Is it that Malia girl?” he asked carefully.

“Malia?” Stiles asked, confused.

“I noticed you two were getting close after that whole…” he gestured vaguely and Stiles nodded in understanding.

“Yeah, no. We’re not together or anything. She’s uh—she’s just a friend,” Stiles explained.

“But you want it to be more than that?” the sheriff prodded.

“No! No, no, definitely no,” Stiles responded quickly. “She’s still kind of pissed at me and Scott about the whole turning her back into a human thing anyways. I think it’s mostly because she really hates math.”

“So it’s a different girl?” John continued and Stiles almost groaned at his father’s persistence. “…Lydia?”

“Lydia is…done and over with,” Stiles sighed. He noticed a while ago that he hadn’t been thinking of her as much as he use to and after the whole Derek thing, he was almost positive he was 100% over her. “She’s one of my best friends.”

John was silent for a moment as he took in this information. He seemed to be trying to think of another person who could be the reason Stiles was acting so strange judging by the way his eyebrows were pulled together.

“Who is it then?” he asked after a while.

Stiles sighed again, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at his knees. He _really_ didn’t want to talk about this with his dad but he also knew John wouldn’t give up without some kind of answer. He could make up a girl but he had also promised to quit lying to his dad. Granted that was more in the context of the supernatural but he felt it applied to everything. It’s not like he particularly enjoyed lying to John.

“Well, Dad,” he started. “I guess there’s something I should talk to you about…”

“Is it a guy?” John spoke up before he could continue. Stiles’ head whipped up to stare at his dad with bewilderment, flailing just a little where he sat.

“You said I wasn’t gay!” he exclaimed, remembering the incident at the Jungle all too well.

“Well you’re not,” John shrugged, although he looked a bit guilty.

“How do you know?” Stiles asked with narrowed eyes.

“Because there is no way you felt the way you did about Lydia Martin for that long and are completely, 100% gay,” his father explained with a raised eyebrow. “I know what bisexuality is, son.”

Stiles scoffed and gave him the side-eye. “Nice loophole.”

John only shrugged again but his expression remained serious, imploring as his eyes bore into the side of Stiles’ head. “So who is he?” he asked softly.

“I don’t think you’re gonna like it,” Stiles muttered a bit bitterly, rubbing the back of his neck again.

“Why wouldn’t I?” John asked, confused. “Stiles…you know that I love you no ma—”

“That’s not what I meant, Dad,” Stiles groaned, looking up to the ceiling with a silent prayer to let this conversation just end. “I just…you probably won’t like _him_.”

“Are you too already dating, then?” John asked.

“Wha—What are you—What?” Stiles stuttered, looking at his dad with confusion.

“Well you make it sound like you’re ready for me to meet him,” John said simply.

“You’ve already met him,” Stiles blurted and then closed his eyes, wishing more than anything that he could take that back.

“Oh?” John inquired with raised eyebrows. “It’s…it’s not Scott right?”

“Oh god no!” Stiles exclaimed, running his hands over his face in frustration. This was the worst conversation he had ever endured with his father and he had had some pretty horrid conversations with the man. “Besides, you know he’s dating Kira. And he’s completely straight. And he’s _Scott_. He’s my brother.”

“Okay, okay,” John assured with his hands held up in surrender. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You’re not being very forthcoming with information.”

Stiles groaned with exasperation, clutching at his short hair. “He’s…older. And we sort of…I don’t know,” he breathed, dropping his hands back into his lap. “I just…something happened and we haven’t talked _since_ it happened and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t feel the same way. Honestly I’m not even sure how _I_ feel about the whole thing.”

He let out a long, slow breath, staring at the wall in front of him while John stayed quiet next to him. After a moment, his father reached over and laid his hand reassuringly on Stiles’ shoulder and the younger man looked over.

“Sounds like you just need to talk to this guy,” he said gently.

Stiles stared at him for a moment before nodding, dropping his head forward limply and reaching up to pat his dad’s hand. “Yeah…I know.”

“Look, son. I know this stuff is…hard,” John said slowly. “Especially when feelings aren’t clear. You’re still young and you still have your whole life ahead of you but…if you feel like this is what you really want now, then you need to make it happen.”

Stiles gave his father a weak smile to let him know he understood and John patted his shoulder once before standing up. “Thanks, Dad,” Stiles called out quietly.

John turned at the doorway and his son looked up to face him silently.

“You know…I didn’t talk to your mother for almost a month after our first date,” John stated with a small smile. Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed questioningly, his mouth slightly agape. “I was so nervous about how much I felt for her after just meeting her. Eventually I sucked it up and went to her house to talk to her because I realized being nervous wasn’t worth losing that feeling.” Stiles smiled sadly, like he always did when they talked about Claudia.

“She punched me in the face for ignoring her for so long of course, but for some reason, she agreed to go on another date with me,” John added with a chuckle. Stiles let out a startled laugh, unfamiliar with that particular story.

“Sounds like mom,” Stiles mumbled around his laugh.

“I loved your mother more than anything. And I realized that at only sixteen,” John continued, smiling tenderly at his son. “It was worth it.”

Stiles nodded in understanding, swallowing hard. The Sheriff nodded in return before leaving the room, the door closing behind him with a small click. Stiles fell back on his bed, paper crinkling beneath his head but he ignored it and huffed out a breath into the otherwise silent room. He found himself smiling at memories of his mom, the way she and John would look at each other at odd moments—just stop and stare with such affection and warmth.

He wanted that.

Maybe it wouldn’t be exactly like that with Derek but he could tell he was well on his way to feeling the same way. And maybe...maybe Derek _did_ feel that way too? The memory of Derek’s gentle kisses along his shoulder and the way he had been so scared to hurt Stiles were flooding his mind and maybe he had got it wrong. Maybe Derek reacted the way he did because he was scared too. He never had been good with expressing himself in any way.

Stiles sat up quickly with a small gasp. Derek had… _feelings_ …for him. There was no way that he would just sleep with Stiles without them, especially after everything that had happened with his past relationships.

Biting his lip, Stiles studied the time blinking up at him from his phone—8:06pm. That wasn’t too late right?

…

Screw it.

Stiles jumped up from his bed with all the grace of a baby gazelle, stuffing his phone into his pocket and snatching his keys and a hoodie from his desk. As he ran downstairs, he quickly threw his jacket on, dropping the keys halfway down and having to stop to retrieve them again. His father must have heard his heavy footsteps as he looked up from the paperwork he was working on at the dining room table.

“I’ll be back soon, Dad!” Stiles called out, barely sparing a glance before he rushed out the door.

John sighed with a small chuckle and a shake of his head and returned to his work without a word.

*****

The entire drive to Derek’s loft, Stiles fidgeted nervously, tapping his fingers against his leg and switching the radio between stations every minute or so. He was really doing this. He was going to tell Derek how he felt and hope to God that he was right about Derek feeling the same way.

When he pulled into the empty parking lot, he could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage so loudly, he would be surprised if Scott couldn’t hear it across town. With a big gulp of air, he stepped out of his car, noting the black Camaro parked next to the building but the lack of a silver FJ Cruiser. He frowned a little at the sight but continued up to the building, taking his time as he climbed the stairs in order to try and calm the way his hands were shaking. Even so, it felt like no time at all before he was standing in front of the giant sliding metal door.

With one more deep breath, Stiles pulled the door open and stepped inside peering around the dark empty space of Derek’s loft. He could hear the alarm going and spotted the blinking red light across the room. He remembered the distinct lack of this display the last time he had been here. Stiles hurried over to press the button and the sound cut off. Without the red light to blink around the room, it was almost completely black now so he used the limited light from streetlamps outside coming through the large windows to find a light switch.

“Derek?” he said, tentatively.

It was clear the werewolf wasn’t in the main room so Stiles moved to the bedroom and glanced inside to find it equally as empty. The bathroom and kitchen yielded the same results and Stiles found himself drawn to the spiral staircase just like last time. Chewing the inside of his cheek in indecision, he hesitated before beginning to ascend the staircase, this time without being pushed into a wall.

“Derek?” he called again as he stared up at the landing.

Once he reached the second floor, he took a moment to find another light switch and flip it on before glancing around the room and sighing at its obvious lack of a brooding werewolf. It figured that he wouldn’t be here the one time Stiles needed him to be.

The room looked as if it was supposed to be the main bedroom but Derek had instead filled it with a few dusty boxes and empty space. A cot was folded in the corner as well. Stiles could only assume it’s what Isaac used to sleep on.

“What did you not want me to see in here?” he muttered to himself with confusion, ambling over to one of the boxes and wiping a heavy layer of dust off the top.

A large sticker was stretched across the top with the word ‘EVIDENCE’ spelled out in big block letters. Details about the case it was from were printed smaller beneath it and Stiles gently ran his fingers along the words that so clinically described the Hale fire.

He took a deep breath before moving on. It wasn’t his place to open boxes Derek himself hadn’t yet found the courage to open.

Two more boxes were stacked next to it, with the exact same sticker, both also unopened. Only three boxes of belongings left of a family of at least six. Stiles felt his throat grow tight at the thought and tried to swallow down the pity that was beginning to take over. Derek didn’t deserve and certainly didn’t want pity.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another box half hidden behind the cot, this one with flaps haphazardly folded together to keep it closed even though one had fallen open to lean against the wall. Curious, Stiles walked over slowly, catching a glimpse of glossy paper within it.

With shaky hands, he kneeled and easily pulled open the box as he drew it toward himself. He immediately identified the glossy paper—a photograph. It was a bit discolored and had creases drawn in the shape of a ‘t’ across it as if it had been folded many times. Despite this, Stiles couldn’t tear his eyes away from the image it held.

He found Derek almost immediately, young and grinning as he kneeled on the ground in a basketball jersey, an even younger girl, almost a child, sitting on the ground next to him and leaning her head on his shoulder—Cora. Letting his eyes wander, Stiles saw a young man who looked remarkably like Peter and was surprised at how close in age he was to Derek. Next to him was a short woman, her hand resting against her rounded stomach as she smiled gently at the kiss Peter was pressing against her temple.

Stiles had to close his eyes for a moment. For so long he had imagined Peter as some evil, unhuman…creature. He had almost forgotten that Peter had lost his entire family in the fire as well, that he had lost not only a sister, a wife, nieces and nephews…but he had lost himself, too.

Gritting his teeth, Stiles looked at the picture again, moving from face to face as he tried to guess who each person was. There was a tall woman, with serious eyes but gentle laugh lines standing with her arm around an even taller man. Next to him, a girl, a little older than Derek, leaned into the man’s side with her arm around his waist and a silly grin on her face. They must be Derek’s parents and Laura.

Young children were scattered around the picture as well, one looking to be trying to escape the grasp of a woman at the edge of the photo. Probably another aunt and cousin. It was hard to tell if any of the other three children were siblings but Stiles was willing to bet the little boy that was sitting in Cora’s lap was their little brother.

He found it impossible to tell who was human and who wasn’t and the thought made it even harder for him to keep looking at the picture. Swallowing hard, he gently placed the picture aside and moved to look at the other pictures inside the box. It didn’t occur to him that he probably shouldn’t be doing this.

Small wallet size pictures of family members were scattered across the top of what looked like a jewelry box and he smiled down at them as he sifted through them, pausing on the unfamiliar face of a younger girl. She was smiling at the camera, her expression tinted with exasperation as she held what looked to be an instrumental box propped on her shoulder. Stiles vaguely remembered Peter mentioning that Paige had played cello and he gazed a bit more intently at the photo before setting it aside as well.

The jewelry box seemed to be all that was left in the box until Stiles noticed another photograph stuck between it and cardboard. He slipped it out carefully and stopped breathing for a moment when he saw what it depicted.

Erica held Isaac firmly against her side and was leaning back into Boyd’s chest as she held the camera out in front of them in order to capture everyone in the frame. She was smiling brightly, so different from the smirk Stiles remembered, while Boyd seemed to be watching her in amusement. Isaac looked as if he would rather be anywhere else and Stiles choked out a laugh at the ridiculousness of the entire picture, letting his fingers gently run along the image of Erica’s cheek.

“They took that right before Boyd and Erica decided to leave.”

Stiles spun around, the picture slipping from his fingers as he stood quickly to face Derek. The werewolf was staring as it floated to the ground, his eyes remaining on it for a moment before he looked up to stare Stiles in the eyes. His jaw was clenched but his expression didn’t necessarily look angry so Stiles let out a small breath.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I was looking for you and I—”

“Went through my stuff,” Derek finished with a hard look and Stiles gulped nervously.

“Yeah…I don’t really have an excuse,” he said lamely.

They were silent for a moment before Derek’s shoulders slumped seemingly in defeat. “What are you doing here, Stiles?” he asked tiredly.

Stiles could feel his heart pounding again and tried to regulate his breathing in order to calm it even though it was becoming increasingly clear that wasn’t going to work. This was what he wanted. It’s what he came for. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he took a step forward.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

Derek watched him, his eyebrows darting up expectantly and Stiles blew out a long gust of air. This was what he wanted…but now that he was here, he had no idea where to start.

“About what happened,” he continued cautiously, taking another step forward.

Derek’s jaw seemed to clench further, the muscle in his cheek jumping, but he didn’t reveal any other reaction to Stiles’ words. It was disheartening and Stiles was suddenly terrified that he had been wrong. That Derek didn’t feel anything for him. That he really didn’t care that much for Stiles. That Stiles was just simply Scott’s best friend.

His breathing must have grown a bit more ragged at his thoughts as Derek gave a hesitant step forward, eyebrows furrowed in what Stiles wished was concern. Who was he kidding? Stiles had never been nothing more than a nuisance to Derek, a person to go to when he needed help and to avoid at every other moment.

“I know that you regret it,” Stiles finally breathed out, trying to get passed the lump in his throat. “I get that. I get that I’m not—that I can’t—”

Stiles cut himself off with a huff of frustration, running his hand through his hair roughly. He was trying to assure Derek that he could accept that the older man didn’t want him the way he wanted Derek. The idea made him a bit sick though and he just couldn’t find the words he needed.

“Why do you think I regret it?” Derek asked.

“I’m not Paige,” Stiles blurted, vaguely gesturing toward the pile of pictures behind him.

Derek looked at him surprised and confused before scowling a little. Stiles didn’t give him a chance to reply though.

“I’m not the perfect person. I’m just Scott’s best friend. I’m just an annoying kid who gets in your way more often than not and—and I have no idea what I’m doing half of the time. And that’s fine because that’s me and I know that. But I also know that that isn’t what you want.”

Stiles breathed in heavily, having not bothered to during his small speech, his eyes glued to the floor by Derek’s feet. The other man didn’t respond and the growing silence of the room was beginning to close in on Stiles, bearing down on him with intent.

None of this had been what he planned to say. He felt the sudden urge to cry at how wrong everything felt now that he was finally here. Sniffing a little, he forced the burning in his eyes away and moved to look up at Derek head on.

“Paige wasn’t perfect,” Derek muttered and Stiles frowned. Despite his confusion, Derek didn’t seem inclined to elaborate so Stiles sighed a little, running a hand down his face.

“I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to feel…awkward or anything,” he said, his voice void of emotion. “We can just forget it.”

“I don’t want to,” Derek answered quickly.

Stiles squinted his eyes at him suspiciously. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t regret it.”

Derek’s voice sounded so sure and Stiles was shaking again, his heart beating against his ribcage louder than he remembered it having ever done. He knew he was gaping at the man stupidly but he just couldn’t think of anything to say.

“I thought…” Derek started. “I thought you did. You left so fast.”

“I needed to get home,” Stiles blinked.

“Usually when people say they need to get home, they’re using it as an excuse to escape,” Derek explained drily.

“Oh.”

Stiles frowned at the revelation. Was this all just a big issue of miscommunication then? He groaned at the thought and closed his eyes in frustration.

“I trust you, Stiles,” Derek spoke quietly and his eyes flashed open to stare at the suddenly shy werewolf. “Probably more than anyone.”

“More than Scott?” Stiles teased lightly but his voice held a hint of vulnerability.

Derek nodded seriously and he gulped, taking another step forward.

“So…what does that mean exactly?”

Another step.

“What do you think it means?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, letting his foot slide forward until it tapped the front of Derek’s boot.

“Always so cryptic,” he answered with a small smirk.

Derek made no move to touch him but his gaze was swimming with emotion as his eyes met Stiles’. The dim light from above them created a shine that made his irises metallic in appearance, a sight that Stiles couldn’t bring himself to look away from no matter how hard he tried.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk,” he said, “so I just avoided you.”

“Why did you come now, then?”

Stiles huffed out a small laugh. “Believe it or not, my dad convinced me.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up, his lips twitching in amusement. It was all Stiles could do not to grin at the expression.

“He doesn’t exactly know I was moping about _you_ , though,” he stated.

“Moping, huh?” Derek asked, a small smirk slipping onto his face.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, crossing his arms in the limited space between them. “Oh and you weren’t?”

The flat look Derek gave him would normally have told him that that’s exactly what had happened but Stiles knew now. Derek had basically admitted it to him.

“You know,” he started with a hard swallow, “I’m not really good at this whole ‘feelings’ thing.”

Derek glanced down at himself and raised an eyebrow sarcastically as if to say ‘and I am?’

“I’m kind of a mess actually,” Stiles continued.

Derek’s expression only grew more sarcastic.

“That probably makes us a pretty good match,” Stiles concluded with a small grin.

Derek rolled his eyes, arms darting out to wrap around the younger man’s waist in a tight embrace before his lips were descending on Stiles’ own in a firm kiss. If the teen wasn’t so distracted, he would gripe about Derek trying to shut him up. He could let it slide this once though.

With a sigh, he slid his arms up and around the older man’s neck in order to hold him in place while he deepened the kiss just a bit more, lips moving a bit uncoordinated against Derek’s as he tried to relearn the way he moved.

It wasn’t very long that they stood there kissing before they pulled away and Derek placed his forehead against Stiles’, his breathing a bit labored but his features smooth with content. They remained that way, pictures laying forgotten on the floor until Stiles sighed, pressing a soft kiss to Derek’s lips once more.

“I have to get home,” he murmured into the little bit of space between them. His eyes widened at the words before he leaned back with a bit of panic. “Like I actually do! It’s not an excuse. I didn’t even really ask my dad if I could leave.”

Derek chuckled a little at the explanation, pulling Stiles to him so he could push his face into the teen’s neck and breathe in deeply.

“Are you sniffing me?” Stiles asked incredulously.

“I’m breathing,” Derek said, deadpan.

“Oh.”

“But you do smell nice.”

“Awe thanks, Sourwolf.”

Derek leaned back and glared at him. “I thought I told you never to call me that again?”

Stiles shrugged. “I thought I would bring it back.” Derek looked thoroughly unimpressed at the explanation. “You have to admit it’s pretty accurate,” Stiles teased.

Derek sighed, pinching Stiles’ side a little as he pulled away and the teen yelped before shooting him a glare. “Get home before your father sends out a search party.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, rubbing at his side petulantly. “You trying to get rid of me?”

Derek stared at him intensely and the smile slipped off Stiles’ face. The older man simply shook his head in answer.

Stiles bit his lip before pushing forward to kiss Derek again, slow and sweet before pulling away and flashing him a smile. “I’ll see you around then.”

“We still have more to talk about,” Derek said and Stiles paused from where he had been walking away.

Turning to look at Derek over his shoulder he gave him a soft smile and a shrug.

“We’ve got time.”

**Author's Note:**

> The sheriff totally knows it's Derek.
> 
> You can send me prompts at my tumblr if you want too.  
> Tumblr:  
> http://50-points-for-ravenclaw.tumblr.com/


End file.
